The Renovation Chronicles: Week One (Part 2)

This one is titled "we did everything wrong".

This is the post where we scream "why on earth did we possibly think this was a good idea!"  No, really.  When we thought this might be a little too big a project for one person, perhaps we should have listened. 

The token "during" shot

And now, the reality of living on the generosity of others (and their couches, trundles and sofas) for one, two weeks or more.  The reality of living like nomad with that unsettled feeling of no home base to go to.   The reality of royally pissing off the painters and the contractor before they even started because, well, apparently it IS too much for a single working parent to pack up an entire apartment solo so while everything was in boxes the boxes weren't exactly closed (we tried! The tape came undone with the heat overnight!), boxes weren't pushed to the middle of the room (we needed to walk around! plus they were heavy!), there were still some things on the walls (also super heavy!), and while the plastic mattress covers were on top of the beds, we hadn't actually put the mattresses in the covers (you try lifting a mattress by yourself! It ain't easy peeps!).  

Apparently "I really did the best I could" doesn't cut it with these guys.

Of course, the other reason they were not happy is because the furniture-less living room we promised them didn't exactly pan out.  Of course, that wasn't really our fault, since the charity we donated to didn't really pick it up the Friday before like they promised.  Which royally pissed off our employer who wa'nt too happy with us taking a day off for nothing.

Cue the lifesaving babysitter who stayed two days later to oversee the furniture pickup that finally arrived.  Cue customer service man number 327 who stayed on the phone with us for hours and tolerated our repeated calls so we could get an update on the truck's whereabouts.  And cue rejection of.....

Wait, what? Wha you say? Yes, rejection.  Apparently our couch was so bad even the charity rejected it when they saw it.  Luckily for us the painters offered to carry the sorry thing downstairs six flights of stairs to the trash for the low, low price of $200.  Which made the $50 counter-bid our super gave us suddenly seem attractive.

It wasn't all bad, though.  There was a nice moment when our (still royally pissed) contractor called us to tell us that the new TV we needed to buy that he was going to hang on the wall was too big a job on that particular wall and he recommends just using a stand like the one we had on the old TV.  Which we had already given away to our babysitter thinking we'd buy a thinner and lighter one......oh wait, maybe that wasn't good news after all.

Sigh. So there you have it.  However it's not all disaster.  Despite not knowing when we can move back in (was supposed to be one and half weeks), despite being clueless about the progress (we're terrified to look so resorting to sending spies) we apparently did one thing right, so we shall pass that lesson on to you.  If you remember ONE thing this is the lesson to learn.

Grease the super.

Even if the contractor will, do it anyway.  Chances are, you'll need him, even if you don't know why or when yet.  And we shudder to think where we'd be right now if we didn't.

Stay tuned for more renovation chronicles, where we wonder why our stuff seems to have tripled when we attempt to unpack it,  where we sit in an empty living room and dining room with nothing in either but a card table and two folding chairs, and when we encounter other "fun" surprises.  

We look forward to the post where one day, looking back, we don't actually regret this project.  A girl can dream....

The Renovation Chronicles: Week One (Part 1)

We are about to take you on an adventure.

Well, not really.  But we are about to go through our first ever "renovation" of our current home.  Why, you ask? Well,  the "let's throw it on and see" paint color we picked years ago didn't really work and it's time to admit that (note to self: dingy brown looks just like it sounds).  The giant holes of plaster in our walls where the paint has long since peeled are begging to be painted.  And for some strange reason people say after 10 years we should have painted again already.  And finally, if all that's not enough, we may have to sell someday.  You know, when the money runs out.

So there's your reasons.  Now in order to not horrify a potential buyer with the low standards we've had for years, we realized we'd have to at minimum paint, patch the giant holes of plaster in the wall, take care of those cracks in the floor, fix the outlet that's always burning out, and replace the molding shower caulk that was so eroded everything got wet all the time anyway.  And while we're at it, let's get some grown up furniture in here - you know, a dining table that isn't 15 years old and seats only two, a couch that isn't littered with tears and breast milk stains...you get the idea (Yes, we just said "breast milk stains". Get over it.)

No problem, we've got time on our hands right now.  Single working mothers have nothing but time on their hands.  Wait, what's that? They don't.  Huh.  Guess taking this on solo was probably not the brightest idea we've ever had, and after the first 24+ hours of this we're realizing just how in over our heads we are.  So where does that leave you?  Well, we figure at the very least our tales of annoyance over should entertain someone out there.

Now, we know we should stop whining.  All homeowners have been through renovations; it's the downside of owning vs. renting (or the upside, if you like that sort of thing).  And at least we have our health, and running water, and food and all that.  But the next two-four + weeks will still be chaos.

Manhattan-dwellers will understand; it's a special kind of crazy over here.  Everything is a million* times more expensive because of insurance, permits, small spaces.  Painting a small apartment is kind of hard where there's no where to put your furniture.  And being that we don't live in that fabulous park avenue apartment or brownstone we dreamed about last night, there's no "extra" room or floor to live in.

And with no experience here it's kind of like flying blind.  What have we messed up already?  Well, for starters, taking the furniture peeps at face value.  Apparently when they say 12 weeks they mean maybe kinda sorta 12 weeks but might be 4, 5 months too.  More on that later.

Meanwhile, here we sit in our apartment, work about to start Monday, took off from work as the old couch was getting picked up Friday to give the painters room -- and, the call comes that they're not coming to pick it up.  Ah yes.  Boss will be thrilled when we take another day off.  On the plus side, it gives us time to wait  for a plumber to fix a leak that decided to spring this week in our bathroom 65 year old pipes.

The token "before" shot.  

Yes, good times ahead, peeps.  Stay tuned as we continue to pack up our entire apartment into boxes in one day, while simultaneously doing enough laundry to last in a suitcase for 2-3 weeks at the same time.  For two people.  As our nanny said this morning when she stopped by to take the TV home, "it simply can't be done!"  Wait, why did she leave....?  Can't anyone help pack these boxes? What will we do now?

Stay tuned for part 2....


*you DO recognize hyperbole when you see it, don't you?  Of course you do.  But for the one guy who inevitably won't, our lawyer says we need a disclaimer.  And by "lawyer" we mean the voices in our head.